


Keeping Up Appearances

by jell_0_shot



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Other, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6361582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jell_0_shot/pseuds/jell_0_shot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I created a character: Marcia and Marshall Langman's daughter; to them, the ideal daughter, but to her friends, an experimental mess. Rebelling against everything her parents stand for, Mary meets a girl named Tory and for once she feels sort of grounded. The story is twisted into Pawnee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Up Appearances

The first time Mary Langman kissed a girl, she realised her father was gay.

She was sixteen and when the redhead from her calculus class pushed her against the hallway door at a party and crashed their lips together in a drunken mess, it became abundantly clear. She was finally feeling something, inside of her. Her stomach was twisting and knotting, wanting more.

It was a hunger she had never seen in her parents; when they kissed, it was on the cheek and meaningless. There was no passion, no desire. They were merely keeping up appearances.

She’d been keeping up appearances too; a perfect daughter whose grades were top of the class and whose hemline was below the knee. But when she was out of their world, she was an experimental mess. Alcohol, short skirts, and cigarettes – she’d been kissing boys behind her parents’ backs since she was thirteen.

But kissing boys was routine, mundane and sloppy. She hated the way they smelt and how heavy their breaths were; no one ever told her she could be somebody else. Then she fell in love with the redhead, and girls, and she finally understood why her parents never touched.

\---

Jared pulled over a few houses down from Mary’s and watched her as she dragged a wet cloth across her face.

“I don’t get it. I mean, I know your parents are strict…but why can’t you wear make-up around them?”

Mary pulled out her compact mirror and checked that her eyes were mascara-free, “I’m allowed to wear make-up, but it has to be subtle. She’d probably kill me if she knew I wore eyeliner.” She threw the cloth at him and kicked the door open.

“You coming tonight?” He yelled as she crossed the street. Her head bobbed at him.

Mary flattened her hair and her skirt before gently pushing her front door open. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen, calling out for her parents. No one answered. So she swapped the apple for her secret stash of Cheetos and turned on the Smashing Pumpkins.

She spent the afternoon painting her nails and ignoring her homework. The house was so much more peaceful when her parents were at late night meetings. Plus, it made it so much easier to get out of the house on a Friday night. She simply scribbled a note claiming a sleepover at a friend’s place and headed out once the sun began to sleep.

\---

A cloud of smoke was hanging in the air when she arrived at Jared’s house. She was late on purpose; there were enough people here already that she could slip in without being noticed. There were certain rules she had to follow in order to maintain her double lifestyle; never let a nark see you. She glanced around the room but everybody seemed cool.

She’d been to Jared’s house too many times to count. Their parents were friends and often invited them around for dinner. Plus, Jared threw a party every time his parents went out of town. She took the stairs two at a time and closed the bathroom door behind her. Rule number two; always wear a parent-appropriate outfit on the way to a party in case you bump into them, or someone they know. She pulled her long, floral dress over her head and glanced in the mirror at the strappy top that was underneath, which left a line of skin around her midriff. She lent over the sink and painted her face with make-up. When she’d finished, she was no longer the Mary her parents knew.

Before she went downstairs, she tipped back some spare shots her friend had given her at the last party. She clamped her lids down over her watering eyes and clenched her fists until her nails dug blood. She hated how shots affected her, so she always did them alone.

A body slammed into the wall outside and she heard drunk laughter. The door opened loudly and a tall, beardy man slumped in. He looked up at her from his position on the floor and grinned, “I didn’t know Jared had such hot friends.” The look in his eyes was greedy.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She spat at his outstretched arm.

She grabbed her bag and hugged the wall, avoiding his touch. Once she’d slammed the door behind her, she breathed. In, out, in, out.

She found Jared outside smoking with a few other guys she vaguely knew. He offered her his smoke which she took to soothe her nerves.

“Who’s the jerk in the basketball shirt?”

Jared looked down at her, “Alex, why?”

“Can you get me a drink?”

When Jared came back – a beer in his hand – he had a girl by his side that Mary didn’t recognise. She was wearing tight jeans and a halter, her hair was blonde and bouncy and she had a timid smile on her face. Jared shoved the bottle in Mary’s hands, spilling a bit on her high-heeled feet.

“This is –“

A shattering noise from inside spilled onto the deck where they were standing.

“Fuck.” Jared yelled before running towards the mess, frantic.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fuck.” Mary tasted the beer and scrunched her noise up. She hated beer.

The girl in front of her laughed politely, “Actually, it’s Tory.”

The shots were finally starting to kick in, so the girl in front of her was slightly blurred, as if someone had made her outline hazy. She squinted at her.

“Okay, I’m Mary.” She took another sip of beer, “Hey, our names kind of rhyme.”

“Not really.” Tory coughed and clutched her elbows.

Mary nodded as the silence hung heavy in the air. The girl in front of her nibbled the inside of her mouth.

“You look like you could use a drink.” 

She didn’t wait for an answer and walked towards the fridge inside under the pretense of getting one for her. As soon as she was out of her eye line, she took a left and found some of her friends from school. They all offered her drinks far nicer than the Corona in her hand, so she accepted and soon her head was foggy and dancing.

The night was swirling around her, it was too much and she was stumbling down the hallway, looking for air. A large body was blocking her way, and she recognised the laugh.

“It’s Alex, right?” Her voice was a shout; against the music playing and the noise in her head.

He nodded, trying to focus on her. “That’s me.” 

His arm fell on her hip and she should have been revolted. But she lent into it, letting his arm close around her lower back. And then her mouth was on his, and it tasted like whiskey and weed. 

Eventually, his hands starting sliding up her torso, and she realised she was allowing this to happen. She pushed him off like a gasp; quick and her chest hurt.

She needed to be outside, she needed to be alone, she needed to breathe.

\---

Mary was trying to wash the taste of him out of her mouth with vodka when the blonde from before walked outside. She spotted Mary, perched on the railing and asked if she could join. Mary didn’t answer so she sat anyway.

“Are you having a good time?” Tory asked.

Mary looked at her sarcastically, “You know what? I’m having the time of my fucking life.” She took another sip of vodka and stared into the darkness surrounding them.

Tory pulled the bottle of vodka out of Mary’s grasp and helped herself to some.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Tory squeezed her eyes shut the way Mary always does when she drinks shots and she couldn’t help but notice that it was kind of cute.

“I’m Tory Hastings. I moved here a couple of days ago with my mom.” She exhaled.

“Why’d you come to Pawnee? It’s a shithole.”

Tory – who’d only lived here for two days – seemed offended. “My mom’s originally from here. She wanted to be closer to family since my father left her for a whore.”

Mary let that hang in the air. It was the first time she’d heard her say anything with a bite.

“She’s not really a whore. She’s actually quite nice.” She backtracked, fiddling with the rim of the bottle, running her fingertip around in a circle.

Mary snorted, “How is she nice if she ruined your family?”

The circles stopped, “My parents fell out of love a long time ago. In fact, I don’t think they were even in love in the first place.” They started again, going round and round, “They spent my entire childhood waiting for one of them to leave, and it was my father who finally did. So, she’s nice”

Mary nodded, she understood. Maybe they could be friends and bond over their parents’ loveless marriages. She started to notice the way her hair curled around her cheeks, and how her presence was calming; Tory was washing over her and she could finally breathe normally again.

“How about yours?”

“My parents?” Mary laughed, “Well my father is gay and my mother is a homophobic asshole.”

Tory looked confused; by Mary’s brash nature and by what she just said. Mary sighed, “My parents are religious and work for the Society for Family Stability Foundation. I guess my father pretends to be straight to uphold their ideal of the perfect family, or something.” She took the vodka bottle back off Tory, and moved onto one of the chairs littering the deck.

Tory followed her, “And what about you?”

The hope in her eye told Mary what she was really asking about.

“I’m the only one in the family who likes girls.”

Mary noted that a smile found its way onto Tory’s face despite her best efforts to stifle it. A stocky guy stumbled outside, his eyes sparkling from Scotch.

“TORY? IS THAT YOU?” He shouted, “We gotta go!”

Tory rolled her eyes at Mary, “Unfortunately, that’s my ride. I better go.”

She stood up, and suddenly Mary was standing up too, and she was shaking her hand.

“Well, uh, stay safe. I mean, he looks like he’s been drinking so…” She dropped her hand and looked to the floor.

Who the fuck are you, her mother? Mary could feel the heat kissing her skin, turning her face red.

“It’s okay, we organised a sober driver. It was really nice talking to you, Mary.”

She didn’t look up as Tory walked away, but she breathed in the air so she could taste her saying her name. It was sweet and new and exciting, and what the fuck was going on?

She took another swig of vodka, but this time she wasn’t trying to wash away a taste; she was trying to feel it in her veins.


End file.
